an immense work of genealogical research,
which was intended to cast an entirely new light on many obscure
incidents of English history. For this he solicited encouragement--and
subscriptions. He enclosed with his appeals some specimen pages, which
appeared to promise marvels of industry and research. His preface
was a wonderful essay, of which a HAYWARD would scarcely have
been ashamed. In this way he gathered a large amount of money from
historical enthusiasts with more ardour than knowledge, and from old
friends who, knowing his real ability, believed that he had at last
determined to justify the opinions of him which they had always held
and expressed. It is unnecessary to add that not another line was
written. For several years ill health was supposed to hinder him. We
read piteous stories of his struggles against the agonies of neuralgia
and rheumatics, some of us threw good money after bad in the effort to
relieve the imaginary sufferer; but to this day the proofs of PERKIN
WARBECK's absolute claim to the throne, and of JACK CADE's indubitable
royal descent remain in the scheming brain of GORTON. Eventually the
poor wretch did die in penury, but over that part of his story I need
not linger. The irony of fate ordained that when he was actually in
want he should wish to be thought in possession of a large income.

I knew a Clergyman once--at least I had every reason to believe him
to be a lawfully ordained Minister of the Church of England. He was
taken on as temporary Curate in a remote district. His life, while he
remained there, was exemplary. He was untiring in good works; the poor
adored him, the well-to-do honoured him. We all thought him a pattern
of unselfish and almost primitive saintliness, and when he departed
from us he went with a silver inkstand, a dining-room clock and a
purse of sovereigns, subscribed for by the parish. The odour of his
sanctity had scarcely evaporated before we discovered, with horror,
that the man had never been ordained at all! He was an impostor,
masquerading under an assumed name, but while he was with us he did
good and lived a flawless life. These matters puzzle me. Perhaps you,
my dear PLAU, can explain.

Yours, DIOGENES ROBINSON.

* * * * *

A RATHER LARGE ORDER.--Amongst the many suggested plans for housing
the collection of pictures once offered by Mr. TATE to the Nation, is
a scheme for turning the Banqueting-hall at Whitehall to a us